Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street 4)

“I want to see you come,” she said, her stark admission surprising her a little.

His cock lurched on her belly. He seemed less surprised by her outburst than she was. “You will then. But not yet.”

He watched her, as if assessing her reaction. Her nostrils flared slightly as he slowly moved her other hand to join its mate on the pillow. A bolt of excitement went through her. She ground her hips down onto the mattress, writhing, getting indirect friction on her simmering sex.

Kam’s eyebrows went up in prurient interest. “You like to be restrained?”

“No.” She bit her lip as molten heat surged in her sex. “I don’t know.”

“You mean you haven’t let anyone do it before?”

She shook her head.

“Would you mind if I bound your wrists then? While I play with you? I’ll free you anytime you like. Just say the word.”

She swallowed with difficulty, suddenly going still when she noticed where Kam was lustfully staring. Her nipples had pulled into painfully hard points. Her body had certainly found his proposal arousing.

While I play with you . . .

“All right,” she whispered.

He swung a long leg over her and clambered off the bed. She sorely missed his heat and hardness. She watched him remove his shoes and socks. He made short work of releasing the buttons on the white shirt he wore. Her breath caught as he whipped open the placket and she was gifted with the vision of flexing, ridged muscle and smooth, swarthy skin. His cock looked even more stark and flagrant jutting from his nude body. He retrieved a condom from his jeans pocket and lunged toward her bedside table. She turned her head, her line of vision directly on his suspended cock.

She moaned and reached. He captured her wrist.

He extricated something from her bedside table drawer and was crawling back on the bed again.

“You already almost made short work of me three times running. Give a man a chance,” he murmured, his rough voice like a gentle fingernail going down her spine. He straddled her and gathered her wrists above her head again. She gave him a stunned glance. “You said I could restrain you.”

She caught sight of something in his hand.

“With my headband?” she asked, realizing he’d removed the thick elastic headband from her drawer. She wore it, and others like it, to pull back her hair while she removed her makeup in the evening. She often forgot to remove it until she went to bed, and thus had a collection of them in her bedside table drawer.

He made a sound of preoccupied agreement as he twisted the band around both her wrists, restraining them. He gently pushed her hands against the pillows and sat back.

She watched, her mouth going dry as he just inspected her nude body for a moment with a long, glittering stare of male appreciation. He slipped a large hand beneath his heavy erection and stroked himself.

“Kam,” she whispered disbelievingly when arousal stabbed at her. It was unbelievably exciting to watch him touch himself. Her hips twisted on the bed, but he pressed down with his pelvis on her thighs, stilling her as he continued to slide his fist up and down his erection. He pressed the tip of the fleshy cockhead between her labia. Her eyes sprung wide at the erotic vision, her initial gasp becoming an incredulous, shaky moan. He stilled her shifting hips with an open hand at her hips.

“This pussy . . . I’ve been dreaming about it constantly,” he said, sounding distracted. He began pulsing against her clit with his cock. “Do you shave because it makes you more sensitive?”

She just shook her head, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. It felt so good, to be stimulated so intimately with the very cockhead that made her mouth water. He looked up to her face when she didn’t respond. A small, fond smile titled his mouth, the hot expression in his eyes leaving her even more breathless than she’d been.

“You do it because it’s neater that way, right? Sleeker.”

“I suppose,” she gasped.

His smile widened slightly, then vanished when he looked back at his illicit task. “Look at that. Look how wet you’re getting me.

Despite his words, she continued to watch his face. He looked utterly transfixed as he watched himself rub his cockhead against her clit. Eventually, she glanced down and saw how her juices made the ruddy tip shine. The pressure against her clit, the illicit slide and press of his most sensitive flesh against hers was delicious. She flexed her hips upward as much as she could, a choking sound rattling her throat.

He looked up at her face. “Could you come like this?” he rasped, continuing to manipulate his swollen flesh up and down a scant half inch, every once in a while pausing to stroke the heavy staff.

“Yes,” she admitted shakily. Why deny it? Her clit was burning. She’d love nothing more than to ignite with the tip of his cock as the trigger.

“Hold still,” he warned her darkly when he removed his restraining hand from her hip. She struggled to follow his instructions, even though she longed to push more firmly against the steely cockhead. He reached between her thighs.

“Oh,” she gasped loudly when he inserted his thumb into her pussy.

“God, you’re soaking,” he mumbled, sounding both excited and gratified. The tip of his cock began outlining a tiny circle, pressing and bobbing against her clit. She simmered. Even the bottoms of her feet sizzled as they flexed helplessly. His thumb plunged in and out of her, amplifying the pressure on her clit. He grunted in arousal. Lin’s entire body tightened. He began to thump his cock gently against her clit like a lewd drumbeat.

“Oh no,” she mumbled, her head twisting on the pillow as she crested.